Shipwrecked!

The Beach

On weary hands and knees, Quinn crawled up the beach, out of the ocean. Coughing up salt water, he collapsed, breathing hard. For a few minutes, all he could do was lie there and try to catch and calm his heaving breath.

When he was finally able to lift his aching head, he glanced around to see his surroundings. Trees of spectacular height, intermingled with thick vines and the calls of various, unknown creatures, created the proud, thick jungle that stood before him in all her glory. Behind him, the hateful, heaving ocean that threatened to swallow him whole, lapped vengefully at his feet. To either side lay the long stretch of beach, shimmering in the moonlight, curving just out of his line of sight.

Spotting a dark lump in the sand, Quinn strained his eyes to make out details, whilst unconsciously moving toward it. What he failed to notice, however, were the multiple pairs of eyes, glowing faintly, set high in the trees, watching.

Having gotten closer, the lump started forming into a humanoid shape, details becoming clearer until he could determine a tangled dark mop of hair, glinting wet in the light of the moon. Tattered pinstriped pants, once expensive, lay ripped, showing a large deep gash, pulsing red lifeblood out onto the pale white sand.

Face pale and breathing unsteady, it was clear to Quinn that his eldest brother, Ronan, would not survive the night.

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Shivering in the cold of the night, Quinn huddled into Ronan's rapidly cooling body, desperate to conserve body heat and to keep him alive just a little bit longer, waiting for their rescue. He knew the makeshift tourniquet, soaked with blood, called to animals all over the island.

The sounds that had been so harmless earlier now started to sound malignant and full of unspoken, horrible promises. One bloodcurdling call in particular had Quinn shuddering further into his elder brothers broken body, wishing he had some way to defend himself.

'It sounded like somebody was screaming... in utter agony', he thought to himself.

Deciding that it was merely his imagination exaggerating due to the unfamiliar island, and being in the dark, he resolved to stay awake, on his brothers behalf. No one would bother coming to this island before morning anyhow.

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Ronan was dead. He fell asleep, and Ronan had paid the price for it.

Disgusted with himself, and delirious with grief, Quinn started to wander across the beach, away from the agitated waves and further into the island that held dangers the world once knew, many millions of years ago.

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So, this is the first story I'veattempted in a few years. Should i continue, or just leave it as a one-shot